


Try a Taste

by ngk_they_said



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Retirement, Travel, but this is a longer draft, contains companion art, from the Spud Omens zine, mentions of historical colonization and genocide, obviously there are potatoes, sichuan food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24938362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ngk_they_said/pseuds/ngk_they_said
Summary: Post-canon, newly-established relationship. Crowley and Aziraphale eat lunch in Chengdu, and reflect on humanity's marvels and horrors through the lens of potatoes.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	Try a Taste

**Author's Note:**

> There's a companion art piece I drew at the bottom of the story.
> 
> A 200 word version of this ficlet, and the art, were published in the silly Spud Omens zine that accompanied Flaming Like Anything; this is a longer draft from the process of whittling it down.

"Oh, Crowley, thank you. You simply can't find Sichuan food like this anywhere else."

Crowley and Aziraphale were having lunch in an elegant restaurant in Chengdu. Or, as usual, Aziraphale was eating lunch, and Crowley was sipping grain wine and savoring his angel's obvious displays of pleasure.

Aziraphale grabbed an enormous serving of potato shreds between this chopsticks; the fact that none fell seemed suspiciously miraculous. He plopped it in his rice bowl and savored his first bite.

"Want any, love?"

Crowley felt a sharp tug in his chest. These last few months post-thwarted-apocalypse, "my dear" had become "my dearest", that extra syllable changing everything. Or Aziraphale would call him "love" with such warmth that it felt like his true form was peeking through to say "you, Crowley, are love incarnate," while casually offering him stir fry.

"Hngh. Uhumm. What is it?"

"Stir-fried potato floss."

"You know I'm not keen on potatoes, angel."

Aziraphale dropped his chopsticks and stared at Crowley, dumbstruck. "You don't. Like. Potatoes?"

"Well, fascinating human development in not dying of starvation, but not my scene, really. Bland."

"You know, towards the beginning, they were a little project of mine," Aziraphale said.

"You invented potatoes?"

"Err, no. I simply helped them along a bit."

"You hung around pre-colonial South America and blessed potatoes?"

"Officially they sent me to bless emerging indigenous agricultural innovations. They had just invented irrigation, so terribly clever! I sampled potatoes on that assignment and couldn't stop thinking about it."

Crowley sipped his huangjiu. "So, unofficially, you were potatoes' guardian angel."

"Only for five millennia. Once humans started colonizing the Americas it... I just..."

"Was colonization one of theirs?" Crowley asked, tilting his head upwards.

"No, the humans managed it on their own, I'm afraid." 

Aziraphale bit his lip and looked away. Crowley took his sunglasses off and carefully folded them on the table. Aziraphale snapped his gaze back at that sound. 

"It hasn't stopped hurting to watch humanity's darkest moments play out," Crowley said. 

He reached across the table to take Aziraphale's hand. Aziraphale took a deep breath and nodded. Crowley miracled protective space for this silence; the waitstaff were suddenly overcome with the urgent need to fold napkins on the other side of the restaurant. When Aziraphale looked up at Crowley after a few minutes, Crowley smiled and put on his sunglasses again.

"Okay, then. What's so great about these Sichuan potatoes that we came halfway across the world, angel?"

"Well, they're anything but bland, if that's your complaint. Garlicky and vinegary, and spicy, but with that lovely numbing tingle from the Sichuan peppercorn. Practically a demonic sensation, the way the spice hits you and the numbness builds later. Almost gave me a fright the first time I tried it!"

Aziraphale grabbed a few strings between his chopsticks and held them out across the table.

"Try a taste, my love," he said softly.

Crowley sighed. Here he was, the serpent of Eden, completely powerless to resist this temptation.

He parted his lips and took a bite.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at @ngk-they-said


End file.
